


Drowning

by Arlome



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drugs, F/M, Humanity, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 08:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlome/pseuds/Arlome
Summary: "He’s drowning.It’s water in the lungs, sharp pain in the ribs, burning flare in his stomach – the whole shebang.Or, at least, that’s how it feels."For the Filii Hircus "Lucifer Does Humanity" challenge.





	Drowning

He’s drowning.  
It’s water in the lungs, sharp pain in the ribs, burning flare in his stomach – the whole shebang.   
Or, at least, that’s how it feels.  
A distant memory blazes across his mind like a great ball of scorching fire – he’s young, and light and ‘airborne’; riding the wind and setting the stars afire.

But – no, that can’t be right.

He’s just a man – no more, no less; delusional, a little sad, a bit lonely – like a tragic clown in a lovely Armani suit that says a lot but means little.  
His heartbeat hurts his ears but soothes his overthinking mind – nothing to be heard above the din of rushing blood.  
Is this how it feels to be so very utterly _human?_  
But yes, of course, it does – and he _should_ know, for that is what he is, after all –  
…Isn’t he?

He made it up, made it all up – sinned, and drank, and fornicated, and –   
-and hurt her.  
Above all else, _this_ is probably his greatest sin.  
But he’ll be better – now, that the fog of illness has cleared from his mind. He’ll never go off his meds again.  
-because, surely, that’s how _this_ happened – this crazy situation, these delusions of grandeur, this – this, Devi –

He’s drowning, but maybe _she_ can pull him ashore.

She looks at him with concern and pity in her lovely eyes –  
 _-such colour, such vivid hue- reminds him of the sky above the Silver City-_

But no, that can’t be right, either.

He’s drowning.  
Her eyes are moist.  
I’ll be better,” he pleads with her when she looks away, unable to bear the sight of his lax face a minute longer, “I’m sick now, but I’ll be better – I know it –“  
 _It’s for the best if he stays a little longer,_ she says and pats his arms worriedly, _his health is important to her._

He’s drowning again after she leaves, and the nurse walks in and gives him a pill that pulls him further still into the depth.  
He dreams of music, of trees laden with figs and pomegranates; he dreams of lakes of fire.

_-Did it hurt? When he fell from Heaven? Did it hurt? When the flesh on his bones got devoured by the greedy tongues of flame? –_

He wakes up frustrated and agitated, calling out for her; when he brings his hands to his eyes, to press his knuckles deep into the aching sockets, his fingers come away wet.  
 _When will the wicked, false memories stop,_ he asks the doctor, _when will it all go away?_  
He’s given a new pill while he sits at the window and waits for her to return.

He’s drowning.


End file.
